"…Ser Gregor Clegane, Queen Cersei, Meryn Trant, Dunsen…" Arya recited the death prayer in her cabin aboard the Titan's Daughter as it rocked slowly back and forth on the waves of the narrow sea. She had been surprised that the journey had been so quiet in her three days aboard the ship; back in winterfell, Maester Lewen had told her frequently of the rough storms that ravaged the narrow sea during the autumn and of the even worse ones that plagued the oceans by winter. The young Stark concluded that they must be still in summer or else the signs of harsh weather would have begun by now.

"…Valar Morghulis" she had finished her nightly ritual, her promise, her oath of vengeance. Right now on this ship bound for Braavos, she was on her way to where she could best learn the skills she would need to take the vengeance she craved, the place where the man known to her as Jaqen H'ghar would fulfil his promise to teach her how to take a life and cross those names off her list.

She rolled over in the cot of her private cabin and pulled the covers tight around her. She still could not sleep; there was something in the air keeping her awake as if right here and now she was meant to see something. Arya looked up at the ceiling of her cabin and tried her best to block out the sounds of Captain Terys's heavy footsteps across the wood, she could hear numerous Braavosi sailors shouting orders and japes at one another in their native tongue but this was nothing new or indeed unexpected.

Throwing the covers off herself in frustration, she stepped quickly over to the small cabin window and flung it open, letting in the clear rays of moonlight along with the fresh sea air. As she stared into the hypnotic sway of the waters, Arya began to lose herself in thought of the past; she began to remember all of the things she had lost, all the people she loved who had been taken from her, she thought of winterfell and of how much she loved her great northern home, she thought of Nymeria and wondered if what she saw of her beautiful wolf in her dreams was true and that she did indeed lead a pack of her own Direwolves back home in the North. Most of all, here on this ship full of men from Braavos, she thought of her dancing master and friend Syrio Forell and wished, even now, he were still alive to learn from.

Arya was pulled out of her revere by the ships mates shouting something in their native Braavosi she could not understand, there seemed to be quite a commotion going on as far as she could hear and so made her way to find out what it could be. There many dangers to traversing the narrow sea, Ironborn Pirates, Lysene pirates, Sellsails and a hundred other different dangers beside the weather and Arya did not want to run the risk of falling into someone else's hands after so recently escaping the hound.

The moment she opened the door she saw what troubled the sailors so much: A tear, a black hole in the sky surrounded by a dark storm that blew a strong wind toward the ship. It was as though the great Titan of Braavos had ripped apart the very heavens above and exposed what lay on the other side.

Arya ran to the prow of the ship and looked out at the slash; there was no rain surrounding it, only black skies and lightning which broke the waves before them.

"Captain, what's going on?" she shouted over the wind to the Braavosi next to her.

"How should I know, I've never seen such a thing as this!" he shouted back. Turning, he called out something in Braavosi to the man at the wheel and suddenly the ships course began to alter. Arya began to panic, she could not go back to Westeros, not yet, she was nearly there, the captain had told not two days ago that they would be at Braavos within the week and she could allow any sort of delay, not while she was so close.

She was about to turn to shout at the captain when something caught her eye; a great clap thunder, followed by a dark twisted shape within the clouds, almost as if there was someone or something in dark, spectral armour, riding a horse beyond the skies over the Narrow sea. Believing herself to be seeing things, Arya began to turn once more when a second giant clap of thunder rang out and something emerged from the tear.

She could not make it out at first and she struggled to see what it was even more-so against the battering of the wind, but as her eyes refocused she saw it was the figure of a person, freefalling into the sea.

"Captain!" Arya shouted as she ran over to the Braavosi and grabbed him by his belt. "There's someone out there, in the sea!"

"What of it?" he replied not turning.

"You have to help him!"

"I'm not going to risk my life or the lives of my men on the whim of a stranger, I cannot afford to lose anyone to the storm, not for a demon who fell from the sky!"

"You don't know that, you have to help!" she shouted back. The captain turned and looked down at her before looking out to the sea, the clouds were still black only now they had lost the fierceness of thunder and lightning. He could make out the figure floating in the ocean, limp, helpless and unable to fight the currents.

"No" he said shaking his head "I won't do it, not for a demon"

Arya removed the coin from her pocket and held it up in front of him, forcing him to look down at the coin. They both knew its meaning and what the price of disobedience might cost him.

"Valar Morghulis" she said, her voice heavy with dark overtones that sent a chill up the captains spine.

"Valar Dohaeris" he replied before shouting orders in Braavosi to his crew. The Titan's Daughter realigned its course and headed straight for the stranger floating in the sea, as soon as the ship made way alongside the figure floating in the water the captain sent his two sons to retrieve their new passenger. Arya looked down at the person she had had rescued on her insistence and tried as best she could to gauge her properly.

A young girl, only a year or two older than herself, hair the colour of freshly burnt ash; A tight tunic of black leather, decorated with metal studs, fitted around her upper body comfortably, a pair of brown leather breeches, now soaked through with sea water, hung to her legs tighter than they would if they were dry. A pair of knee high riding boots with a silver buckle on each covered what were, ostensibly, diminutive feet.

The most telling part was the swords strapped to her back, by the look of their weight they should have pulled the girl into the murky black of the narrow sea but by some miracle she lay here on the deck.

It took a moment but she did finally open her eyes; as the mysterious girl looked at her rescuers, she immediately jumped to her feet and drew a long iron sword from her back and took a defensive stance. She eyed them all with the wildness and caution of a cornered tiger, threatening to slice any who dared approach her with malicious intent.

"Where am I?" she asked, her voice sounding terrified and panicky. Arya stepped forward and raised her hands to calm the young girl but only after adjusting her belt so that her own sword, needle, now at the base of her back and out of sight.

"You're on a ship, the Titan's Daughter, bound for Braavos" she explained in a calm motherly tone. The girl looked at her surrounding, confused as to the meaning of Arya's words, as if she were somehow speaking a foreign language.

"Braavos, where's that? Is it anywhere near Cintra, near the Skellig Isles?" the strange names of which she spoke sent a ripple of uncomfortable murmuring among the sailors who stood watching the scene unfold in morbid curiosity. A crack of dying thunder rang out and the girl immediately pushed past the sailors fearlessly, sword in hand, to the prow of the ship; she gazed out at the sky as the rip closed itself, scanning the heavens as the last dying light of lightning flashed against the blackness above.

Turning she rushed at Arya who now hand one hand placed firmly on Needles hilt in case the girl actually was as insane as she looked right now.

"Did they follow me!" she demanded, "Tell me, did the Wild Hunt follow me through?"